[15: 1. Once upon a time] Once upon a time there was a very large bullfrog who lived in a hollowed out log that jutted out into a small pond in a part of the forest that nobody ever went to. Every night he would croak and call all night long, then as dawn breaks, he would rumble and hop down the hollow log, croak three last times, then jump off the log into the pond with a huge plop. The slap against the water would make such a noise that it would startle anyone who happened to be near by, and usually they'd tear off through the forest since it sounded rather a lot like gunshot. But one day, the frog rumbled and croaked, hopped off his log and, much to his surprise, landed not on the water, but on a rather friendly otter who had been waiting to slide by at just the right time to turn the tables and surprise the frog for once. The frog was indeed surprised, and made a few somersaults trying to right himself as he was turned upside down by the landing, and struggled to the surface and climbed onto a lilly pad, which nearly submerged under the frog's weight. "Whatever did you dod that for?" Demanded the frog. "You've been making a terrible racket every night for as long as I can remember. You scare the fish and so they don't lay eggs here, so there's not very much to eat around here. I have to travel up the stream that feeds the pond for hours every morning to find a meal for my family, and quite frankly, I think this has got to stop?" The frog looked at the otter incredulously, and then hopped off the lillypad with a practiced hop and landed with a giant plop in the water, making a noise that sounded rather a lot like gunshot, then hopped up inside the log and disappeared. "You see? That's just what I mean..." the otter said, though the frog was long gone. Because of that, the otter and his family came up with a plan. They decided that they'd pile a bunch of branches and stones at the end of the log so that the frog couldn't get back out for his nightly serenade. They worked a huge mound of debris that day, and that night the frog came out of his log and hopped up on it. He croaked and called all night long, and just as day broke, he saw that his favorite landing spot was taken up by the huge mound, so he hopped down right next to it with a giant plop, and the wake pushed the pile right down and he nodded and croaked as the sticks floated away. He hopped up the inside of the log and disappeared. Because of that, the otters were none too pleased. This time they decided they needed help. They called in a family of birds. They hatched a plan, and the next day, they spent the whole day picking berries and the birds swooped about eating every last bug and insect in the pond, until finally they were stuffed so full that they could barely fly. That night, the frog hopped out on the log, started to call and chirp, but much to his dismay, there wasn't much to eat. Not a fly, not a bug. Not so much as a mosquito. The otter popped his head up on his way to bed. "Think you can keep the racket down now?" The frog groaned and croaked and said "I suppose so." Ever since then, the frog has kept croaking and calling all night long, but when he jumps in the water, he's careful to be quiet and not scare the fish, and the otter and his family makes sure that the frog has something to eat every night.